Ghost of Ex-Boyfriend Past
by FerryBerry
Summary: Future. Finn has been tied to an unhappy Rachel since his death. When he observes a usual interaction under his unusual circumstances, he discovers a way to fix her mood.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. All belongs to _Glee_ writers and creators.

**Ghost of Ex-Boyfriend Past**

"It's unfair. Animals remain loyal long after a loved one's death and it's cute or honorable or proof of humanity's failures. Humans remain loyal and there's something wrong with us."

That was the first time Finn noticed it. Rachel said those words after watching Hachi: A Dog's Tale, snug between Santana and Quinn on the couch, only she said it only to Quinn, when they were walking back to their own apartments in the light snowfall. And there was a sadness in Quinn's eyes, a little drop to the corner of her mouth as she trod along next to Rachel, watching her.

Finn couldn't believe it. He'd seen Quinn do that before, wear that sad look. Like when he said he wished she was more like Rachel, back in sophomore year. Or when Rachel sang Go Your Own Way while he performed on the drums and Quinn watched from her seat. Or whenever Rachel stood in front of the group with him and talked about their wedding. But he'd always assumed it was about _him_ as opposed to Rachel.

Now he was dead. And there was no denying the look on Quinn's face, the longing for a little brunette. He was sympathetic and jealous, at the same time. Quinn was still alive at least, still able to touch Rachel and spend time with her, _converse_ with her. Finn could only watch, as he had since the day he died, trailing Rachel wherever she went and observing her life, a silent non-participant.

Rachel had spent a lot of time with Quinn since their graduation, and Quinn's move to New York City for a job opportunity at a photography studio. Evidently she'd changed her mind about an acting career, or even modeling, and opted instead to get behind a camera. And Rachel hadn't given up one iota on her friendship with Quinn. Now that she was readily available, just blocks away, Rachel went over to Quinn's apartment all the time.

So Finn had gotten to see a lot of Quinn, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was nice to see her successful, smiling, happy. And Rachel, too, though she rarely smiled when she _wasn't_ with Quinn, or at least on stage, which should've been his first clue, Finn realized now.

He had hated seeing her unhappy, floating through a few relationships, but clinging to him always. She'd take out a picture of him after a date and stare at it, sometimes cry, and he'd try to hold her. But it didn't do any good. He couldn't touch her, she couldn't feel him. But sometimes, while she was looking at the pictures, she'd look at Quinn, too. And that would calm her down, make her smile again, even if only for a moment. He should've known.

But the important thing, Finn reminded himself, was that now he did know. He had seen Quinn's face, seen her longing, and he had put the pieces together. His ex-girlfriends liked each other. They made each other happy. It was strange to think of, but somehow not so strange. Sometimes he did get the feeling, at least from Quinn, when they were together, that it was more about Rachel than about him. Her having feelings for Rachel specifically had never occurred to him, but now he could see it.

Quinn was possessive about her. That day in sophomore year when he'd told her he wished she was more like Rachel, she'd asked him not to cheat with Rachel. Not not to cheat period. Just not with Rachel. And there were other instances, little moments that collided in his head to bring him the proof that he had been blind to all along.

And maybe this was why he was still here, he reflected. To make Rachel happy again, to help, anyway. To make Quinn happy, too. To get them to see what he could see, walking along beside them while they linked arms and playfully stuck out their tongues to catch a few flakes of snow.

But how? How was Finn supposed to do anything like this? They couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, couldn't feel him. Sure, sometimes, he had a feeling like he could influence them somehow, or something. Like once Rachel had been deciding on where to order takeout from and he'd gotten the most amazing craving for Chinese food, and that's what she decided on. He had to apply that, he decided.

So when Rachel was all tucked in for the night, snuggling up in her covers and flicking off the light, Finn sat on the edge of the bed and focused with all his might - Quinn. He even muttered, "Text Quinn. Do it. Come on, Rachel. You had a great night, text her, tell her, come on, come on come on."

For a moment, Rachel's eyes slipped shut and Finn thought he'd lost her to sleep for good. But then she bit her lip, staring at her phone on the nightstand, and picked it up. Finn leaned forward to peer at the screen, as she selected Quinn and typed, 'I had a great time tonight. Thank you.' He grinned.

#

Finn continued this habit into December, influencing Rachel with thoughts of Quinn, demanding she text her, see her. It worked, most of the time, but there were occasions on which he was too exhausted to manage it. It took a lot out of him, influencing her, focusing so hard. And Rachel was resistant.

Not because she didn't want to see Quinn. He could tell that wasn't the case, because she wore this big smile on her face anytime he got her to text her or think of her. But, he could guess, because she felt guilty about him. So he had to work doubly hard.

Still, Rachel would do it, and for a week or so, Finn watched them text each other, sweet and flirtatious little exchanges.

Rachel would say, 'I'm thinking of hot chocolate.'

And Quinn would reply, 'You're psychic after all.'

Rachel would grin and answer, 'I've been telling you all along!'

And Quinn would say, 'Prove it once and for all. What am I thinking?'

And Rachel would giggle and squirm in bed and type, 'Quinn Fabray! What a dirty mind!'

Quinn would simply type, ';)'

Finn felt like an intruder in those moments, watching the two of them text back and forth and hearing Rachel's intimate little giggles. Watching her blush and hum impatiently for a response. But he had to keep an eye on their progress, and this was his unlife now. Watching Rachel, keeping an eye on her happiness.

So he'd also follow her when she went to Quinn's, or invited Quinn over, or they met for meals. They were less flirtatious in person, but much more touchy, he noticed. Under the restaurant or cafe table, they'd touch feet accidentally on purpose, and when they sat watching a movie on the couch, Rachel would lean into Quinn's side or stretch her legs over top of Quinn's. Quinn's fingers would dance over Rachel's knees or thighs, if she felt brave, and sometimes rub her feet or calves.

Finn tried his hand at influencing Quinn once or twice when they were at her penthouse, and when Rachel took the initiative to go over on her own, so he wasn't too exhausted to try it. Quinn was much harder to work with than even Rachel. She was entirely deaf to his pleas to move closer, to hug her, to say something - that she was having a good time, that she liked Rachel - _anything_. Quinn wouldn't do it. But somehow he felt she _felt_ his influence more than Rachel.

He didn't know what it was about Quinn's reactions, but there was tension in her jaw, in her mouth, whenever he pushed at her, talked to her. She just chose not to listen, not to let him influence her. She always was the most strong-willed person he knew, when she made up her mind to be.

Still, Finn decided he needed to try harder to wear her down. Rachel was much more comfortable with their friendly interactions than before and brought Quinn a fresh lunch almost daily at work in order to see her. So he could lay off until he had worked on Quinn and her resistance some. He could guess where that came from, too. The same reason Rachel held back - him. Only it was because Rachel held back because of him that Quinn held back.

So the week before Christmas, Finn followed Rachel to Quinn's work and then stayed there when she left. It was difficult, staying without Rachel - he'd been tied to her since he died - but he had to, so he did, and sat next to Quinn as she ate a delicious looking turkey sandwich and thin slice of pumpkin cheesecake, and talked at her.

"She cares about you a lot, you know. She shows caring through food sometimes. I bet you knew that already. She's on the verge, Quinn. She just can't let it go yet. You can help her. You can make it okay to move on, just let her know she has you. You're the one, Quinn, come on. You know you are. You make her happier than I ever saw her with me. Just look at her smile. Imagine it. Those white teeth and those dimples. You love it, don't you? Come on, admit it, your eyes sparkle every time she does it. Come on, Quinn. Work with me here."

Quinn's brow was furrowed, and she had stopped eating.

"Show her how you feel, she'll move on. Do it, Quinn," he encouraged, hopeful.

For a moment, Quinn stared into Finn's eyes, and he froze. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him so directly. He wasn't sure what to do. Could she see him? Could she hear him? What was happening?

She looked away before he could open his mouth to ask if she could see him, set down her fork, and opened up her laptop to start browsing Google. For Christmas gift ideas. Finn grinned, hovering behind her.

"That's it, that's it. Find something perfect, you always give the best gifts."

#

After Finn had ensured that Quinn had ordered the perfect gift for Rachel, he realized he needed to work on Rachel herself getting a gift for Quinn, though it turned out he didn't need to worry about it. The day after her last performance of the season, Rachel sat at her desk writing out a long list of gifts for her various friends and family and then promptly went out to shop for everything she could pick up in NYC.

For Quinn, however, Rachel had written down 'camera.' Finn shook his head at that, when she arrived at Quinn's name on her list.

"Really? Something to do with cameras, that's the best you can do? Come on, Rachel, what happened to a certificate for a free ballad from Rachel Berry? Give her something real, not just something to do with her job. I know you're thinking...come on, what does Quinn like?"

Rachel crossed out 'camera', and Finn nearly leaped in triumph as he followed her into the Barnes and Noble.

#

The Christmas party was held at Quinn's penthouse - she had the biggest place, the most room for Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, and Sam to pile into along with their beautiful hostess. Finn had managed to encourage Rachel out to Quinn's early in the morning, but Kurt and Blaine appeared while they were in the middle of arranging Rachel's presents under the big tree Quinn had set up - before Finn could encourage anything between them.

It was kind of nice, though, once everyone was there. So many presents piled up under the bright tree, all the couples and Quinn and Rachel laughing and tossing back eggnog and hot chocolate, stealing candies and cookies and cheese and crackers off the food trays Quinn had neatly set out on the coffee table. Finn almost felt like he wasn't gone, sitting there among them, chuckling along with them while they opened presents from each other, tried on shirts or sweaters and jewelry, and Quinn took pictures of the whole event, hovering around the edges of their joy like she always did.

Sometimes Rachel tugged her down to sit on the arm of her chair, though, without any encouragement from Finn, and Quinn would set her arm around Rachel's shoulders and Rachel would set hers around Quinn's hips and rub circles on the point of one. And they would both smile, and Finn was oddly delighted by that. Jealousy just wasn't as prevalent anymore when he watched them.

He did have to come over to each of them to encourage them not to give their real gifts in front of everyone, which was easy enough - they seemed to already have been thinking of that idea anyway. But he had to be sure, after all, and the two of them exchanged a necklace and a colorful scarf in front of them all, but when the party was winding down with wine and Christmas movies, Rachel slipped her hand into Quinn's and led her out to the balcony, into the cool winter breeze.

"Is everything okay?" Quinn prompted first.

"Yeah, I just needed to see you alone for a minute." Rachel was chewing on her lip, the most obvious sign of nerves on her. Finn tried to pat her shoulder, hoping the reassuring feeling was there, at least, even if he couldn't really touch. Rachel lifted out the wrapped present from her purse, offering it up with a blush. "I didn't want to give this to you in front of everyone else."

Quinn smiled as she took it, slipping a finger underneath the tape to tug it loose. She was always so delicate when she opened presents. It drove Finn crazy, and Rachel, too, for she bounced with anticipation until Quinn finally had the wrapping off and smiled as she stroked down the cover, a book of photography from some artist - Finn didn't recognize the name, but Quinn and Rachel seemed to revere the woman. Quinn latched onto Rachel immediately, pressing the book into Rachel's back.

"Rachel...thank you so much, this is-this is wonderful," Quinn cooed, and squeezed, and Finn saw Rachel's grin before they unleashed each other. "I have - I have something for you, too, wait here."

"Oh, you don't have to - " Rachel trailed off; Quinn was already gone through the glass doors, and after she dug out the box from where she had it hidden on a bookshelf, reappeared and held it out in front of her. "Quinn! I hope this wasn't as expensive as it is large." She giggled.

Quinn just grinned and sat at the patio, tapping the table until Rachel sat across from her. "Don't worry about the cost."

Finn propped himself up on the ledge, watching Rachel beam and rip the bow loose and lift out a styrofoam casing from a cardboard box, to ultimately gasp at the sight of a Funny Girl snow globe, sparkling with falling glitter as Rachel lowered it to the tabletop.

"Oh, my God...Quinn," Rachel breathed, and Finn grinned.

"You like it?" Quinn leaned her chin up on the heel of her hand, smiling across at her.

"It's beautiful! Where did you even - never mind, I don't want to know, this is perfect!" Rachel rose up abruptly, brushing wrapping paper off her lap to hug Quinn to her chest.

Finn couldn't help but blush a little, thinking of that poor mailman, when Quinn's eyebrows popped up, her cheek flattened to Rachel's breasts. But she held onto Rachel nonetheless, lifting her chin up to peer at her, only to realize her lips were right there. Finn hopped off the wall.

"This is your shot, Quinn," he encouraged, crouching next to her chair. "Take it. Be brave. You can do it, I believe in you." Rachel's lips parted slightly. "See? She wants you to, come on."

Quinn cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair. "I'm glad you like it. Crank the bottom." She gestured toward the globe.

Finn smacked his fist on the arm of her chair. "Dammit, Quinn."

He sighed, straightening to stand while Rachel's face fell partway before she sank into her chair and tipped the globe to wind it up a few times. And they smiled at each other as Rachel lit up at the sound of one of her favorite songs.

"This is really wonderful, Quinn," Rachel repeated, and Quinn smiled back, but it was weaker.

They were both weaker in joy, and in fact, Finn felt weak again after trying and trying to get Quinn to take her shot. Maybe he should've focused on Rachel instead. Maybe she'd have been easier to convince. But now he could only watch as the two of them petted their new and cherished gifts and exchanged less and less certain smiles.

At the end of the evening, Rachel lingered around the door until everyone else had gone, but still they only hugged and Rachel swept out of the place with a frown. Finn didn't know what to say to her on the way home, but when she sat on the bed with the globe and glumly petted it between cranking the music, he tried to hold her again, but as usual, his arms did nothing.

#

Rachel wouldn't do anything. She wouldn't call Quinn, she wouldn't see her, she wouldn't make any attempts to contact her whatsoever, no matter how Finn tried. And when he managed to drag himself away to check on Quinn, it was the same story. They were avoiding each other, and it was making his job to make Rachel happy again pretty dismal. She spent most of her time moping now, turning on her snow globe and watching it play, the little Barbra Streisand in the middle turning circles with the song.

Finn didn't know what to do. His influence seemed to do nothing to convince either of them to even be in the same room together, let alone text each other. Fortunately, there was New Year's Eve to look forward to at Kurt and Blaine's place, a big party that neither Rachel nor Quinn could get out of attending.

Not that Rachel wanted to. In fact, when the night of the party came about, she actually seemed excited. Pumped. Ready to go. She had a mask and dress and opera gloves all ready to put on the moment she woke up, and she spent most of the day checking the clock to see if it was time to leave yet. She was the first one at the party; first one Kurt shoved a glass of champagne at, too.

Finn was tempted to look for Quinn in the mass of party goers, once it was too full in the apartment to tell who was new coming in and who was just returning from the hall or a smoke break or something, but he stayed by Rachel's side. He couldn't bear the idea of losing track of her in this crowd, when she was drinking so freely and so cheerfully. But he also hated not being able to find Quinn, to influence her. New Year's was one of the most romantic nights of the year - a countdown to a kiss, a fresh start - it was just what Quinn and Rachel needed. If he couldn't get her to make a move now, he feared he'd never be able to.

But it turned out he didn't have to worry, because as the countdown began, he spotted Quinn in a red dress and mask, lingering nearby, mouthing along with the countdown while Rachel cheered it out with the rest of the crowd. And as the ball dropped, Quinn swept in and kissed Rachel. Finn had to look away for a moment, partly because the sight of tongues and the sound of Rachel's little moan - the one she made when she was receiving an especially good kiss - had him blushing, even though he'd participated in something similar with both of them before. They were just so into it. Far more than they'd been into it with him, he felt like. But maybe it was just jealousy making him think that way, or maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd kissed either of them.

It didn't matter. Because as soon as Quinn pulled away - she left. She threaded through the crowd and disappeared, and Rachel was left panting and resting a hand over her heart, like she'd just been ravished to the point of tears. Not that he'd ever seen her like that, but her big brown eyes were welling, and she looked so flushed and turned on - and Quinn had left!

Finn ran after her, into the hallway - he couldn't lose her now. Thank God, she was leaning against the wall in the hallway, mask ripped off and breathing in much the same overwhelmed way as Rachel had been when he left her.

"Quinn, what are you doing?! Get back in there!" He tried to grip her arm, to tug her back inside, but his hand just went through as usual. "What are you, crazy?! That was your moment! You had it! She wants you, just go back in there!"

"NO!" Quinn was almost looking right at him.

Finn stared. As did the other people in the hall. Quinn turned away from them and rushed to the elevator. Finn followed.

"Wait. Quinn, can you hear me? Talk to me! Can you hear me? What did you hear, Quinn?!"

Quinn covered her ears as soon as the elevator doors closed, and Finn grinned in triumph.

"You _can_ hear me! Oh, my God, Quinn, please! Listen to me, go back, Rachel needs you! What are you doing? Come on!"

Quinn shook her head and closed her eyes.

"Wait, does this mean everyone can hear me now?" Finn frowned to himself. "No, cause they were all like, you're crazy, lady, but...hey, you looked at me once! I know you did, Quinn, did you see me? Come on, I've been alone for so long, you gotta answer me! Did you see me? Can you hear me? Talk to me!"

Quinn rushed out of the elevator as soon as it reached the ground floor and ran for a cab. Finn slid in next to her.

"Quinn, please? Cab drivers drive all kinds of crazy people, it won't matter, just tell me. Give me something. Please?"

Quinn muttered something. Finn leaned closer.

"I'm really going insane this time, Jesus Christ."

He sighed. "You're not insane, Quinn. I'm right here, I'm just… Listen, you have to go back to Rachel, she needs you. More than that, she wants you."

"No, she doesn't," Quinn murmured.

"Yes, she does, don't be stupid. You're just trying to talk yourself out of a great thing, as usual." Quinn said nothing, and Finn drummed his fingers on his knees. "Do you think you can hear me cause you almost died? I mean, you are the only person I know who ever came close, in that car crash…"

She held her forehead, speaking out of the corner of her mouth. "Leave me alone."

"I can't. You've gotta go back to Rachel."

Quinn said nothing again, and Finn followed her up to her penthouse, where she flicked on the lights and waited.

"You can't keep running away from everything that scares you," Finn said, and Quinn jumped at his voice and cussed, throwing her purse and jacket and mask aside as she stomped to the kitchen.

"Rachel doesn't scare me, and why the hell would you be telling me this, Finn?" She paused, hand on her freezer door. "Better question. Why the hell am I talking to voices in my head?"

"I'm not in your head. Hey, if I was in your head, wouldn't I be telling you, like, stay away from Rachel, she's mine, you don't deserve her, or something?" he prompted, watching her take out a bottle of vodka and set it on the counter.

Quinn drummed her fingers. "Or I'm using you to try to convince myself that it's perfectly okay to go after her."

"It is okay," Finn agreed. "I'm dead, you know? We thought we would have forever, but we don't. Now you're the one, Quinn. You make her happy."

Quinn popped the top of the bottle loose and took a swig, shaking her head and blinking her eyes at the sting afterward. She sighed. "If you weren't dead, you would still be together."

"So? And how do you know? Maybe we wouldn't be." Finn shrugged. "Does it even matter?"

"I'm not going to play second fiddle to you forever," she growled, tossing back another drink as she went to the living room.

Finn plopped onto the couch next to her. "Can't you see you aren't? She likes you. She wants you. She doesn't even think about me when she's with you."

Quinn leaned her head back. "She wants to mourn you forever. She wants to stay loyal to you…"

"Things change. I don't think she wants that anymore." Finn lifted his hand to pet her blonde hair. "I think she wants you."

Quinn tossed back the bottle again. "I don't know."

"Don't be scared of happiness, Quinn," he encouraged, and Quinn closed her eyes.

#

Quinn was still asleep on the couch when someone knocked the next morning. Finn rose up to peek out the door, grinning when he spied an anxious, lip-biting Rachel. He charged back over to Quinn as fast as his legs could carry him before he realized he couldn't shake her awake. He tried yelling as loud as he could.

"QUINN, WAKE UP!"

Quinn shot up, holding her head immediately and groaning. "Oh, God…"

"Rachel's here. Go answer the door before she leaves. Hurry!"

Quinn scowled. "Why are you still here?"

"ANSWER THE DOOR!"

Quinn rolled off of the couch cushions with difficulty, kicking off her heels before she stood and wobbled toward the door, swinging it open slowly. She grimaced at Rachel, whose eyebrows popped up.

"Quinn...are you okay?"

Finn folded his arms. "Not really, she drank like a whole bottle of vodka last night."

Quinn scowled. "Shut - " She cleared her throat.

Rachel's brow knit. "Shut what?"

"Nothing...sorry. I'm fine. Are you-are you okay?"

Rachel took a breath. "I didn't see you at the party last night."

"She was there," Finn answered.

Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, I...I didn't see you, either."

"Liar," he scolded.

"It was pretty crowded."

Rachel nodded, lips pursing. "Beautiful dress…"

Quinn looked down at it briefly. "Thanks...I sort of crashed when I came home. I didn't get to...do you want to come in? If you don't mind waiting, I'll shower, change, and then we can-we can talk or whatever you needed...what did you need?"

"To see if we were ever going to get anywhere," Rachel said simply.

Finn grinned. Quinn just stared.

"But I can see that you're content to deny everything, which obviously means you still haven't come to terms with your feelings for me, so I'm better off moving on from you, too." Rachel shrugged. "Unless you want to prove me wrong."

Quinn stared some more.

"Say something," Finn growled. "Don't wait until she's walked away, come on, Quinn."

"Do you want to, um, go to dinner tonight? On a date?" Quinn stammered out, clearing her throat.

Rachel smiled. "I'd love to. But can I just check something first?"

Quinn nodded, brow knit. "Sure…"

And as Rachel leaned up to kiss Quinn, Finn felt a knot loosen, a tie cut. He smiled as they smiled, against each other's lips, and didn't feel one drag or one tug as he walked away to give them some privacy. They could take it from here, after all - he hoped. And now that his ex-girlfriends were happy, Finn could get to doing the things he needed to do. Maybe he'd start with earning some wings. Chicken wings.


End file.
